


Roughed Up

by yellobear



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Heith Week 2017, M/M, Size Difference, Strength Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-03 15:15:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11534877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yellobear/pseuds/yellobear
Summary: Keith and Hunk spar together, and Keith almost combusts into flames. Written for Heith Week 2017, Day 3: Fighting/Touching.





	Roughed Up

 

Lance fell to the floor with a loud thud and a horrified shriek. Keith quickly hooked Lance’s neck with his arm, pinning him against the training deck mat. All Lance could do was wiggle wildly like a fish caught in a net.

 

“One! Two! Three!” Pidge announced, slapping her palm on the ground. “Ding-ding-ding!” Her arms shot up into the air, as if Keith had scored a touchdown.

 

In one fluid motion Keith untangled himself from Lance, pushed off of him, and got back onto his feet. “That was too easy,” he said with a smirk.

 

 _“I wasn’t ready,”_ Lance hissed through gritted teeth. He stayed lying on the floor.

 

“What? Do you want a rematch?” Keith asked. He flipped his bangs out of his eyes and cracked his knuckles. “I could do this all day.”

 

Lance cut his eyes at him as he got up and fixed his clothes. “No way, José,” he replied curtly. “You’re a cheater.”

 

_“Are you serious?”_

 

“You fight dirty!”

 

“How can you tell? That was barely a fight--”

 

“Why don’t you try taking on Hunk?” Pidge suggested with mischief in her voice. She pointed over her shoulder to where Hunk sat tinkering with the Gladiator.

 

After countless sessions with Keith, the poor robot had malfunctioned and was in serious need of repair. While Lance offered to train with Keith and Pidge offered to watch, their session  had quickly devolved into a wrestling tournament. Hunk kept busy playing technical support, but hearing his name broke his concentration. “Say what now?” he peeped.

 

“Fight Keith!” Lance demanded. “Avenge me!”

 

Keith crossed his arms. “I’m not fighting Hunk.”

 

“Are you afraid of getting whooped?” Lance asked, getting a little too much in Keith’s face.

 

“Why would I want to fight him? He’s my friend,” Hunk said. He went right back to fusing the wires between the robot’s head and neck.

 

“You’re not _fighting_ ,” Pidge explained, making motions with her hands. “You’re just… sparring.”

 

Keith picked up his jacket off of the floor and said, “Forget it. It’s not a big deal if I miss a day of training.”

 

“ _Bok bok bok!_ ” Lance laughed. “You're just chicken because Hunk’s twice your size!”

 

“Yeah, and he’s five times as slow,” Keith muttered.

 

“Hey!” Hunk pouted. “I’m not _that_ slow. I could probably fling you across the room like a frisbee!”

 

Keith draped his jacket over his shoulder. “Probably. If you could catch me.”

 

“Fight. Fight. Fight. _Fight!”_ whispered Pidge.

 

“Yeah, Hunk! Teach him a lesson!” Lance cheered. He plopped himself beside Pidge on the floor.

 

“Teach me what? A _cooking_ lesson?” Keith huffed. That sounded a little more harsh than he had intended. But nonetheless, Hunk’s cheeks darkened from embarrassment and he put his tools down. “You know-- it kinda sounds like you’re trying to pick a fight with me,” he said as he got up.

 

Keith’s mouth twitched. He seemed to be caught off guard, as sometimes he said things without thinking or without really meaning them. “Don’t take it so personally,” he told Hunk. “But if you want to fight now, I’ll fight.” With that said, Keith tossed his jacket off to the side again and had a look in his eyes that made Hunk shiver. Hunk turned to Lance and Pidge, who both flashed him big grins. He sighed and shrugged off his vest.

 

“I won’t go easy on you,” Keith warned in a playful tone. He took a strong looking fighter’s stance, with his hands up, and legs apart, bent slightly. Hunk, standing a few feet across from him, gulped. He honestly had no idea what he was getting himself into, and just copied Keith’s pose. “Okay,” he replied under his breath.

 

There was a dramatic pause before Pidge cried out: _“Ding ding!”_

 

At the sound of the “bell” Keith sprang forward at Hunk, whose reaction was to hold his fists up and try to block whatever was about to hit him. But he made himself a sitting duck and Keith grabbed his wrists, twisted them behind his back, and made his knees buckle so he fell to the ground. Keith forced his head down and he was pinned.

 

“One!” called Pidge.

 

Hunk’s reflexes kicked in and he used all his force to roll to the side, toppling Keith over. Keith was quick to recover, however, and was back on his feet in an instant. He knew he had no chance in hell of beating Hunk with brute force, so he focused on using his agility to catch him off guard or wear him out. Keith was quick enough to hit Hunk’s pressure points and get him on the ground again, but he underestimated Hunk’s survival instincts.

 

His heart stopped as he felt a hot vicegrip on his wrist. The strong hand pulled him forward and knocked him against the ground. Realizing he was caught by Hunk, Keith’s face began to burn against the cold metal floor. He wasn’t embarrassed or overheated from exertion-- he hadn’t even broken a sweat yet. It was a strange warmth that intensified as he struggled to break free. Hunk held him down so tightly that it made his wrists ache, and his heart start to race.

 

“One! Two--!”

 

Hunk sighed and loosened his grip for a split second, enough for Keith slip away at the last moment. But the heat under his skin made him feel heavier, and his wobbly knees caused him to stumble. His body was betraying him and he had no idea why. Needless to say, Hunk easily caught him and pinned him a second time. It was the longest three seconds of life. Hunk pressed his weight against Keith so he couldn’t escape, knowing better than to let his guard down a second time. Feeling Hunk’s board chest again his back took Keith’s breath away, metaphorically and literally. He couldn’t move or breathe. Hunk was too damn strong.

 

“Three!!” Lance cheered, pumping his fists in the air. “How’s that floor taste, Keith?!”

 

The instant Hunk let up, Keith shoved him off his back and got up in a huff. Hunk rolled over to Pidge and Lance to ask, “Did I win? I completely blacked out.”

 

“Hunk! You beautiful, beautiful beast!” Lance cried out, grabbing Hunk up by the shoulders. “I’m so proud of you. You mopped up the floor with that mop head!”

 

Keith grabbed his jacket and was on his way out the door. His heels made loud clangs and bangs against the metal floor.

 

“Where are you going?” Pidge called out to him. “You can’t throw in the towel yet! You’re at 1 to 1!!”

 

But without a word or hesitation Keith stormed through the doorway and out into the hall. The doors slid close with a hiss as Hunk finally hoisted himself up. “Guys, I think I really hurt him,” he muttered, looking down at his hands.

 

Lance sucked his teeth and rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Hurt his ego. Just leave him alone, he’s a sore loser!”

 

“I think you’re projecting,” Pidge retorted.

\----

Keith cried out as he dunked his head under the cold stream of the shower. He didn’t really think this through, and when he pulled his head out, water trickled down his back and all over his t-shirt. He shivered wildly as he snatched a towel off the rack and dried himself. It did make him feel better, he didn’t feel like he was on fire anymore. Though, he couldn’t help but feel a tinge of shame. _What the hell,_ he asked himself. He made a mental note to himself: _Never wrestle with Hunk again, unless you want to combust into flames._


End file.
